


The Immediate

by Depths



Series: In a mockery of recollection [9]
Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Feral Behavior, Feral Link (Legend of Zelda), Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Mental Breakdown, Missing Scene, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Selectively Mute Link (Legend of Zelda), Team as Family, Technically Post Canon, Trauma, zelda struggles a lot and link is very confused: the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:20:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27462586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Depths/pseuds/Depths
Summary: The Calamity finally rots away to nothing, and Link watches someone who should be familiar collapse to the ruined grass.
Relationships: Daruk & Link & Mipha & Revali & Urbosa & Zelda (Legend of Zelda), Link & Zelda (Legend of Zelda), Urbosa & Zelda (Legend of Zelda)
Series: In a mockery of recollection [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1926892
Comments: 63
Kudos: 442





	1. The end of the beginning

**Author's Note:**

> takes place directly post-canon, changing the ending of the game a bit. I haven't actually seen the final true end cutscene yet, since ive yet to beat the game (im biding my time lol) I don't actually know how it goes besides the "do you remember me line"

The dark mass of Calamity rotted away, leaving nothing but malice-scarred fields. 

Charred fields, broken ruins, the remainders of forest and upturned dirt, smoldering air, smoke, and–– and–– 

The master sword pulsed loudly in his hand. In his mind. Buzzing hotly, feverishly all-consuming. It ate away at the malice slicking its blade like butter melting in a pan. Even in the wake of the Calamity, its glow refused to fade. He could still feel it yanking on him. Screaming to raise. To swing. To keep fighting, and fighting, and fighting. Get up even if you want to give up. Get up even if you  _ can't.  _

He couldn't hear a single thing over it.

Link's fingers clenched numbly around the hilt of the blade, staring down its edge at the dirted and unfamiliar figure standing where the Calamity had been.

A Hylian. Clear as day. Pointed ears. No talons. No tails or shell-skinned backs. No scales or feathers or fins. Unarmed–– impossibly so. Nothing but a dirtied white dress ripped and ragged and streaked with filth. Unable to hurt him. But someone so defenseless couldn't exist so close to the source of Calamity, nor arrive so quickly.

Defenseless. Her wide blue eyes were barely even focused on him. What he could see of her legs, under her dress, shook so badly it was a wonder she could stand.

Link knew he was trembling. He knew even if the sword tried, that his adrenaline couldn't last forever. The exhaustion was setting in. The ache, the sting, the bruises and scrapes, and still smoldering skin. The master sword shook in his unsteadied grip. 

He couldn't move. 

The sword pulsed loudly in his hand. She stood as if frozen in time. 

He couldn't move.

Her mouth moved. Lips opening and closing, tongue swiping across them once, twice, almost as if she couldn’t understand the feeling of it. 

She turned to him, and her blue eyes filled with tears. The master sword flickered. "Link," She whispered. Her choking voice cut through the haze of adrenaline, of power, of _courage_ and he stared because he _knew that name and knew that voice and_ ** _knew––_** _"Link."_

Link watched his weakest ghost take a wobbly step and collapse to the ruined grass.

The master sword hit the dirt. The buzzing silenced the moment it left his hand, so suddenly he felt dizzy with it. All the noise around him rushed back in, disoriented voices screaming and crying in his head–– and he ignored all of them.

Zelda was real. Zelda was solid. Zelda was alive, and in front of him, and _real_ , and––

"Li–– Link," Zelda continued to choke. Her voice was off. Reedy in a way he knew Hylians weren't supposed to be. Reedy and unsteady and  _ different  _ in a way it never had been, when she was one more ghost, when she wasn't–– "Li––" 

_ She can't breathe, she can't breathe,  _ Urbosa yelled, her panic making Link nearly trip over himself.  _ She doesn't remember how to! _

_ I can't help her,  _ Mipha sobbed.  _ Link, I don't know how––  _

_ You need to help her, Little guy––  _

_ DO SOMETHING!  _ Revali screeched, his gale whipping uncalled around Link's shoulders.  _ DO SOMETHING, DAMN IT LINK! _

Link shot to her side. Zelda flinched when he touched her and he recoiled violently, almost tumbling across the grass with the force of it if she hadn't just as quickly reached out and grabbed as much of him as she could. Her nails spasmed where they dug into his arms. 

Her chest stuttered and failed when it tried to rise. Link hovered over her hesitantly. His voices fell into an unsteady silence but their unease dragged at his nerves like salt over open wounds. She barely reacted at his shifting touch beyond to continuously shudder, jaw clenched tightly as if in pain. Link made to pull away, scared he'd hurt her, but the wounded sound that ripped out of her only made him even more afraid. He had no idea what he was doing  _ wrong. _

_ You're doing great,  _ Urbosa's terse voice cut in, making him jump. The panic in her voice had filtered into something calmer. She still sounded very tense, but a voice at all was enough to make Link feel a little better.  _ She's starting to breathe better. I think her body just needed a bit of a jump start before it started working–– See if she's okay for me, Link. _

Okay. Check if okay. He knew what that meant. The rest wasn't as clear or familiar, but the slower speaking meant it was good, right? "S-Sell?" Link managed. The word dragged at his throat unsurely, roughly. It didn't sound right. Not like the way it left the mouths of people at the stables or even the Zora king. But it made Zelda jerk in his arms. "Sell, Selluh? Okay? Are okay?" 

She made a rough noise between grit teeth in response.

That... didn't sound right? Was that a good noise or a bad one?

_ It's... not a great one, _ Mipha said quietly.

Link frowned, cocking his head. Zelda moaned in his arms at the movement and he nearly dropped her instinctively, jerking away, before rushing to hold her more tightly. Her nails dug more firmly into his arms but he refused to even twitch again. He tried to scan her over the best he could without moving but both of them were covered head to toe in dirt and grime. Link was fairly sure the blood staining her dress was actually his–– and if it wasn't, he wasn't in a position to check or even  _ help–– _

"Link." Zelda sounded small.

His head jerked up. Staring directly into her eyes made a shiver go up his spine. Goosebumps broke out over his arms. 

Her hands carefully let go. Fingers shakily untwisted from his sleeves, spasming and twitching where they pat down his arm to his hands. He didn't dare try to pull away even as the foreign touch burned. 

"Link," She breathed out. 

Link stared down at her, waiting for her to look up, but it never came. Instead the voice-person-princess? only leaned further into him, bowed head resting heavily against his chest. 

Her fingers clumsily tried to twine with his. "Link," She said one more time, and then suddenly her shoulders were shaking violently, shuddering uncontrollably as a giggly sob ripped out of her chest. "We're–– alive. And–and I, I have a–– I have a  _ body. _ I can feel the air moving in my throat when I breathe and, and the grass under my feet, and..."

The giggling was becoming a bit hysterical. It was starting to sound more like sobbing. Link wanted so badly to fidget.

"and  _ you," _ Zelda whimpered. The sheer disbelief of her voice made Link twitchy, made him want to reach for a sword he no longer had. "I can feel you. You're alive. You're... We're  _ okay." _

He didn't know what else to do but hold her.

_ "I can't believe it's finally over," _ she sobbed, and Link closed his eyes and hugged her tightly, unable to do anything else.


	2. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zelda sees Hateno with her own eyes for the first time in a hundred years.

It had been... emotional to see Impa. Hard in a way she hadn't expected. It wasn't as if she had been unaware of the passing of time. Even when trapped within the castle, even when barely a physical entity, she had known that...

Zelda stood in the middle of the room, staring at the wall.

Impa had cried at the sight of her. Her eyes, even sunken into her aged face, remained as sharp as they had always been before the calamity. Even a century seemed unable to wipe away the easy affection she greeted her with. Speaking to her, even when her old friend was now barely as tall as her hip, did something painful to Zelda’s brain. Seeing Paya, Impa’s near splitting image of youth, and yet knowing Impa herself actually sat just a few feet from her––

She couldn't remember much from the meeting at all. Everything remained a fuzzy blur. By the time she had shaken herself out of it, she was blinking on top of a horse halfway back to Hateno, Link at the reins.

Now she stood. Now she stared.

There was nothing else to do. Link's... "house" was... it was a house. Four walls. A ceiling. A little set of stairs up to a quaint little loft.

It could almost be homey if there was anything inside other than weapons. Weapons and dirt. Zelda stared, unseeing, at the familiar curve of Urbosa's treasured scimitar. The scrap of haunting blue fabric tied around a powerful bow. Daruk's signature weapon, bulky and heavy in comparison to the delicate metal arches of Mipha's trident.

There wasn't even a  _ door. _ Just weapons. Considering the state of her knight, Zelda was starting to wonder how Link had even managed to acquire what he had at all. How could he have communicated a purchase? How did he usually? Surely he had to buy and sell before, considering the amount of clothing and random items stuffed into the slate.

But her knight could barely speak. He could barely understand more than his name. Zelda had been too weak, too distracted, to truly try before, but she could vaguely remember how frustrating it had been trying to speak to him. How  _ hopeless _ it all had felt, being unable to even cry for help in a way he would understand.

Link. Mipha. Zelda. Daruk. Urbosa. Revali. Help. Please. Sorry. No. Yes. Danger. Run. 

What other words were there?

She was too exhausted to test him any more. Once the adrenaline and exhilaration from winning, from simply being  _ free _ had faded... Zelda barely could even feel the floor under her bare feet. Everything ached in a way it never had the chance to in over a century. Breathing itself felt like an endeavor.

Link leaving her side tested what little left of her was awake to feel. But that little bit wasn't possibly awake enough to stop him before he had charged right back out the door, leaving her where she stood and darting off to who knew where.

There was... nothing else to do but rest.

Link's house had nowhere to even rest.

Had he even used the house before, aside from the weapons? The only other indication someone had been inside at all were the dirty footprints all over the floor. That and the mussed pile of random discarded clothes (and what.. might have used to be a blanket?) left on the floor up in the loft. 

Maybe that was his... bed. Zelda was too exhausted to even try to cry thinking about it.

"Missy? You alright?"

Slowly, she managed to turn. The man outside looked her over and winced. Zelda couldn't even be upset about it. She was certain she looked beyond hell, still muddied and bruised as she was. At least the man had the courtesy to not call her out on it. "Since Linky ran off again, Karson and I thought we'd check on you. Why dontcha come out 'n have a chat?"

The thought of having to talk after everything–– to talk  _ more–– _ made Zelda want to rip her hair out. But the alternative was what? To continue staring at nothing? To lay on the floor?

She was tired. Every breath pulled at muscles she had forgotten could be sore. It took consistent effort to remember having a body meant remembering to blink. Little bits of motor control that, in her century-long fight, she hadn't considered possible to just...  _ forget _ . Being  _ alive _ again, in all the ways that mattered–– it was exhausting.

Zelda had sworn never to be afraid again. She had truly thought there wasn't anything in existence that could manage to hold a candle to what she had already gone through.

Now, she stared at the unknown man at the door. Long lashes. Thick brows but kind eyes. A woven pink headband–– it was such a soft pink. A nice pink. she had missed things like the color pink, or the tickle of grass, or––

"Sure," She croaked out. The word came out rough. Strangled. Zelda winced. Clearing her throat was such an.... unfamiliar familiarity. She felt oddly like a child again, staring at the wildflowers in the fields from the safety of a carriage. "I would... love to."

The man smiled. "Good to hear, Missy," He encouraged. He didn't say a thing when Zelda struggled to stand. Didn't comment on her teetering steps or her clumsy grab for the wall. 

Her face flushed. She wasn't sure whether from embarrassment or frustration. But he only continued to smile at her, offering a hand when she reached the doorway. If he was insulted by the way she hesitated to take it, he didn't show it.

He led her outside, walking slowly. Zelda shut her eyes tight as grass bent under her bare feet, the cool dew under her, and the warm arm around hers making goosebumps pop up all over her. She was sure she was squeezing his arm too hard.

Their little cooking pit was only a couple of steps from the front door. Not even ten feet. Zelda still collapsed to her knees when they reached it, wobbly and pathetic. Tears welled up in her eyes before she could stop them. She felt like a baby deer. Even in the Castle, even barely physical, she had still felt...

"Hi there, Miss," The other man by the fire greeted her. "Wouldja like some stew? Link made it, but I doubt he'd mind if you have some. He never minds."

The other man made a mock humming sound, sitting daintily beside her. Not close enough to touch. Just enough that, if she tried, his toes might brush her shin. 

"Where're our manners," He laughed. "I brought you all the way out here and didn't even bother to tell you my name! I'm Bolson, Missy, head of Bolson construction here in Hateno."

"I'm Karson," The other piped up helpfully.

"Z-Zelda," Zelda managed. A name. A new name for new faces. People who had never even existed, before–– "I...It's nice to meet you. I'm... I suppose I'm new, here."

In all ways and yet none at all.

The thoughts splintered apart when something warm nudged into her hands. Zelda floundered, trying to get her hands to wrap around the bowl. Maneuvering her thumb independently to grip around the rim of a bowl was so much harder than she thought. Still, she got it eventually. Warm and solid and weighty where it laid in her hands. The stew inside moved slowly, thick and rich. Oil shimmered over the top of large chunks of softened beef, carrots, radishes. When she remembered to breathe in, she swore she could taste it on the back of her tongue before she even managed to... to...

The tears fell. Zelda's hands wavered and shook.

Immediately, someone reached for her bowl and she curled over it, shaking her head mutely. She didn't care if it spilled. What was one more stain? It wasn't as if her gown was even white anymore. Maybe it never was. A hundred years was easily enough to forget little unnecessary details like what shade of white her dress was, or what touching things, anything, felt like, or the taste of wildberries, or the warmth of the sun––

"Come on, it's okay," Bolson murmured. His hand redirected, instead settling on her shoulder. Zelda hiccuped weakly as he started to rub a warm circle into her back. "Shh, that's it. I don't know what you've been through, or how you ended up here, but you're going to be okay, Zelda."

Nowhere to go but up. She knew it was going to get better. It  _ was _ better. Incredibly better. She was–– they were free. They were safe. They were alive. The Calamity was gone. What else could she want but that? What was left to cry over? 

Sitting up, ignoring the snot and tears on her face, Zelda tilted her bowl to her face and stuffed as much stew into her mouth at once as she could. The flavors were so sudden, so thick and hearty and intense–– it only filled her entire body with warmth. Her exhaustion burned out of her limbs like ice in the sun. It felt so good. It felt… 

More tears ran freely down her face, down her jaw and neck. They wouldn't stop. She almost choked trying to swallow her one mouthful. Bolson continued to rub her back until she had forced it all down, wiping messily at her face with a trembling hand.

"It's really good," She sobbed, "T-thank you..."

"Anytime, sweetheart," Bolson crooned. "We're always right outside, no matter where Linky ran off to next, okay?" He handed her a handkerchief. "Now wipe that pretty face off, that's it, and finish your stew. You look like you haven't had a good meal in a century, poor thing."

Zelda laughed, the sound ripping out of her almost hysterical.

_ You've got no idea. _

It wasn't anything she felt obligated to say. Who was left to order her around? She was free. She was alive and solid, and real, and free. Who was going to tell her no anymore? Who was going to force her to live the way she never wanted to, to say the things she never would otherwise?

Dead things should stay dead. Even if it hurt. They didn't have much of a choice anyway.

Zelda tilted her bowl back and took another mouthful of stew. It was just as delicious as the first bite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this story as a whole is getting longer the more i write lol. im having fun playing with zelda, writing her POV is surprisingly easy!
> 
> next chapter will be a lot softer, i promise <3


	3. An attempt to be normal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Link is learning. Zelda, coincidentally, is also learning.

Their bowls laid untouched, cleanly emptied in their laps. 

Even long after they finished eating none of them moved. The stew sat in her as a mass of warmth, stable and solid in a way she could hardly remember experiencing before the Calamity. 

The grass, even cool and damp under them, was soft to the touch. Zelda couldn’t stop touching it. It tickled her palms when she laid them down flat, tingling pleasantly between her fingers. In the shade of the tree, with only her torn and muddied dress, Zelda felt warm all over. Warm from her toes to the tips of her fingers; enough so that when Karson offered her a jacket she politely refused. 

One still wrapped around her shoulders anyway. Zelda didn’t have the heart to take it off even if she didn’t need it. She must be a sight, muddy and strange, for them to insist so carefully. 

Unbeknownst to her thoughts, Bolson continued to talk. She had forgotten how nice to way, just to— just hear someone speak. Just to have something to fill the silence. His running commentary from the moment they had calmed down remained nothing but soothing, picking up smoothly wherever she faltered. "It really is nice to see that Linky has some, no offense missy, normal friends," Bolson said. "He's a very sweet boy, don't get us wrong, determined one too. Brought all the wood I needed just because I asked–– even helped Hudson up in Akkala! But he's definitely got a little of that  _ spark _ , you know?"

"Like a wild fox, if one could hold a sword," Karson chirped.

_ You're not wrong, _ Zelda thought, staring into her empty bowl. "He didn't use to be," She murmured. No one would ever dare compare her knight to an animal. Not before the Calamity. Not her knight, so full of poise and silent prestige. If anything, he was a statue, looming and larger than life. 

Her company turned to look at her and she quickly straightened. "Why is the house so empty?" She changed the subject. "It's... more of a glorified weapon vault from what I've seen."

Both men winced a little, sharing a look. "Yeah," Bolson started hesitantly, "We know. Offered to help fix it up and everything–– for a price, of course–– but..."

Zelda's spoon clicked against the rim of her bowl. She carefully set it down on the ground, nodding in thanks when Karson scooped it up for her. A century to think about memories. Months to rewrite them. A handful of days to reintroduce herself to a stranger. It didn't take a genius to puzzle out their pinched expressions. "He didn't understand what you were asking him."

Bolson laughed, a light, twittering sound, and shook his head. "He didn't. We were lucky he understood that rupees were meant to pay for things. Gave us a hell of a lot of em, too–– way more than we asked for. Karson and I aren't about to ask the boy if he can count, we aren't rude, but, well. What else is there to think?"

"I get it." She did. It was kind of them to not pry Link for answers, at the least. It wasn't her place to ask. She was virtually a stranger–– even if a stranger that had been their princess, once. This house was not hers no matter how royal she used to be or how easily Link had left her there. But. She fingered the slate, a comforting weight tucked into the folds of her dress. "Would you mind then, if I asked on his behalf that you finish whatever of the house is incomplete?"

Bolson and Karson's eyes lit up. 

* * *

_ Scritch scritch scritch. _

It was past sundown when Zelda woke up to it. 

Or maybe just when she noticed it at all. She’d thought that, given what she had been through, she would have passed out till past noon the moment Karson had presented to her the finished bed. Bolson and he had left her alone for exactly that reason–– had even offered to make the bed before anything else, promising to take care of the house while she rested–– and when she had refused, they had relented only by forcibly tucking her in before heading home at sundown themselves. 

It wasn’t their fault. It seemed sleep had become just as foreign as breathing or blinking, or the gnawing of hunger and the ache of cold. Something young and weak in her cradled the feeling of being  _ cared _ for. 

Zelda shoved the feeling down. If she thought about it too long her eyes began to burn painfully and remembering to blink only blurred her vision wetly. 

_ Scritch scritch scritch.  _

Right. Something at the door.  _ Right. _

She swung her legs over the side of the bed. The cool floorboards under her soles were so strange to register. For a moment she allowed herself to wiggle her toes against it, gathering her strength to try standing. She hadn’t had much chance of succeeding before, exhausted, dirtied, starving, and weak, but…

_ Scritch scritch scritch. _

Zelda pushed herself off the bed with shaking arms. What was meant to be a graceful stand became an awkward half-slide half-stumble to the floor. 

_...Okay. _ That was okay. It was still better progress than earlier–– this fall wouldn’t add to the bruises on her knees. She had to stay resilient. Just a little bit more. Dignity be damned, she allowed herself to crawl on hands and knees. She hadn’t wanted to sleep with the slate in the bed with her, just in case she damaged it somehow, but maybe telling Karson to leave it on the desk across from her wasn’t the best idea either. 

It was a short distance, at least. The loft was nice and clean too; Bolson had been careful to clear any remnants of shattered glass and debris the moment Zelda had made clear that her state of dress (including, naturally, her lack of shoes) was not one of choice. She reached up over her head for the slate, lost in thought. She had paid them, but the two men had truly gone above and beyond. Maybe she could discuss giving them proper roles in the reconstruction of the kingdom? Only if they agreed, of course, and she hoped they did. There was simply so much to… to do….

Zelda stopped, frozen, at the top of the stairs. 

It was short. Nothing compared to the grand staircases in the castle of her memory. A handful of wooden steps. An extra sturdy railing she hadn’t had the heart to refuse when Bolson had eyed her quietly. It was small. Short. 

It was mocking her. 

_ Scritch scritch scritch.  _

Zelda breathed in, out, and carefully began the humiliatingly slow descent of sliding down on her butt one step at a time. 

Compared to that, crawling to the door was practically liberating. It was quickly less so when Zelda realized she was unable to reach the handle. Gathering her resolve, she climbed awkwardly to her feet. It required her to lean heavily against the wall beside the door but she managed. She pressed her ear to the wall as quietly as possible. The Sheikah slate glowed brightly, pulsing against her fingers. 

_ Scritch scritch scritch. _

A rough noise was muffled by the door. One Zelda could recognize anywhere. One that was certainly  _ not _ a wayward animal, or bokoblin, or… 

Her shoulders lowered the inch she hadn’t even noticed they’d risen. The slate went sliding out of sight between the folds of her tattered dress. “Link,” She called quietly, wincing at the sting in her throat. “I know that it’s you.” 

Quiet. 

A soft tap. “Zell-uh?” Link’s unmistakably hoarse voice answered. “Is Zellah?” 

He never failed to recognize her by voice, at least. Something about that was… Zelda slumped a little more against the wall, arms hugging herself. Exhaustion swept back over her so thickly, so thoroughly, that she felt a little like just shutting her eyes and passing out again right then and there. She let her head rest gently against the wood. Something about the act was strangely comforting. Juvenile, almost–– like staying up late when she wasn’t supposed to, reading under her bedsheets. 

“It’s me, Link,” She confirmed after a long moment. 

A solid thunk sound, as if Link had butt his head up against the door. “Why wall?” He asked, frustration unmuffled through the wood. “Zellah stuck! Stuck in… in wall. Walls.” A low hiss. Another thud, a little louder. “Zellah stuck in  _ house?” _

Soft scratching noises. Zelda blinked, confused. When it was confirmed not to be some animal or monster, she had thought that Link was… playing some kind of prank, or… well, she wasn’t really sure. Her knight was a stranger now, no matter how she spun it to herself. But now that he had heard her voice, the scratching seemed calmer, almost. 

(Before, she realized, it had been almost  _ frantic. _ )

“Link,” She called out again. The scratching stopped. “Can you not open the door?” 

Silence. The door jostled as something pressed gently against it from the other side. 

Link’s voice filtered back through it meek and uncertain. “...Doo… Door?” 

Okay. Okay. 

“Okay,” Zelda said, “Step back, please.” 

She reached out, grasping blindly in the dark, and pulled. 

The door swung open barely an inch before bumping against something. Zelda snickered into the wall as Link made a loud noise, several things audibly dropping to the floor as his footsteps stumbled quickly back. Holding tightly onto the doorframe, she peered around the entrance. They were far enough from Hateno that the soft glow of lanterns barely reached across the bridge. But the warm gold of the new lights Bolson had installed mixed with the silver of the moonlight to make out Link just fine. 

Huge, glowing green-blue eyes stared at her. Her, the house, the door. Back to her. Back to the door. 

Link blinked, owlish and openly awed, and dropped a handful of… something to reach out and touch the door reverently. “Door,” He murmured. 

She was exhausted. So exhausted every breath dragged what little she had left out of her. Zelda still smiled, and she did it painlessly. “It’s a door,” She agreed. “Would you like to show me what you are carrying?” 

Link didn’t seem to hear her. “Door,” He repeated, louder. “Door!” Zelda startled, toppling backward as the knight abruptly pushed his armful of items into her hands. She was already so unsteady the slightest weight change sent her back down to the floor, buried in a pile of–– of–– 

“Link, why do you have so many frogs?!” Zelda yelped. She flailed in a frantic attempt to stop the animals from jumping out of her lap. Her dress was already sticking to her legs, damp with river water and slime. A frog wiggled out between her fingers and leaped onto her bare, still sleep-warm shoulder. It was so cold. Cold, freezing cold, and horribly  _ wet––! _ “ _ Link––!!” _

The door slammed shut. Opened. Slammed again. Opened. “ _ Door _ ,” Was all Link responded. 

The squirming mass barely corralled on her lap shifted. Zelda jerked back as a frog leaped, narrowly missing her chin. “ _ Link _ ,” She snapped, loud enough to hurt, “Stop that and  _ help _ me, for Hylia’s sake!” 

The slamming stopped. Link scrambled through the doorway and Zelda breathed a shaky sigh of relief as he reached past her to scoop up the slate. When it had gotten free of her dress she wasn’t sure, but that was a question meant for after Link had  _ properly _ stored all the animals in the house. 

Her relief quickly faded when something else got dumped onto her lap. Something just as squirming and alive. 

Butterflies, beetles, and dragonflies scattered into the rafters. Tiny talons caught on her clothes. 

_ “LINK!” _ Zelda screamed. Her yell startled a majority of the multi-colored lizards into scampering away to hide in the house. A firefly got caught in her hair, buzzing in distress. Even more of them escaped out the door, the window, into the house–– ”Put them  _ AWAY, _ don’t take more out!” 

Her knight only cocked his head at her, unmoving. He only looked more confused when Zelda made an attempt (poor as it was) to push the various animals off her and onto the floor. They hopped and skittered into crevices and corners. Zelda grit her teeth. All that effort Karson and Bolson did on a whim for them, and Link repaid them by immediately destroying the place! “Off!” She ordered, more firmly. “Don’t just watch!” 

Link darted onto his knees, carefully scooping up a hot-footed frog from the fast-escaping variety. Zelda glared as he thrust the tiny amphibian up to her face. “Yes, I can  _ see _ what––”

“Taste!” He chirped. 

Zelda’s eye twitched. “Wh––” 

Link frowned when Zelda didn’t move, hands lowering some. “Taste?” He tried again, seeming to ask this time. Link stared at her face, into her eyes. He didn’t seem to find what he was looking for. Zelda watched his hands lower, trembling fingers tightening around the frog. “No?” 

“I… I don’t know what you’re trying to say,” Zelda admitted somewhat desperately. “Do you want me to–– to eat it?” He lowered his head, shaking it roughly. “Do  _ you _ want to eat it?” Another shake. Zelda felt frustration bubble back up in her stomach. The feeling had been so foreign, just hours ago. It was quickly becoming familiar all over again. Tears pricked her eyes. “Then  _ what, _ Link?! I can’t simply pull answers from your head, you have to make an effort to  _ tell _ me them!” 

Link raised his head. His face was twisted into something painful. “You,” He said, rough and grating, “You––  _ You _ want! You want me–– _ I _ taste!” At the blank look at her face, he dropped the frog, reaching out to grab her shoulders. Zelda froze at the feeling of his calloused palms on her skin. _ “Saw _ it!” 

_ Saw––? _

Link abruptly let her go and reached for the slate again. Zelda stared, uncomprehending, as he began to pull various random items out in feverish haste–– armoranth, handfuls of sparking chuchu jelly, fleet-lotus seeds, a whole  _ fairy _ fluttering in a panic out of the range of his flailing hands–– 

Zelda felt her breath catch as a dozen silent princess flowers seemed to burst from the slate. Their delicate blossoms scattered across the mess Link had made of the floor. Even more of them came from the slate, spilling and spilling out until they both kneeled in a thick blanket of them.

The slate left Link’s hands, landing solidly against the floorboards. 

The reprimand hadn’t even left Zelda’s throat before Link was shoving something else in front of her. Her eyes reflexively shut, waiting for another animal. 

“ _ Yours _ ,” Link rasped. “ _ Saw _ it. Saw  _ all.” _

Nothing bat against her cheeks. Nothing caught in her hair. All she could smell was fruit–– sugar and fruit. Something so hazily familiar she swore she could hear the muffled bustle of the royal library around her, swore she could feel the thick fabric of her royal robes.

Zelda opened her eyes and jerked back, gasping aloud. 

Link stared up at her, eyes still endlessly searching, vibrantly green-blue, still holding out the pristine slice of fruitcake. “Fah––fave. Favah,” He squinted, frowning in frustration. “Fave-or-ight. Of Princess.” 

She blinked. Up at him, down at the cake still cradled in his white-knuckled hands. 

_ Her favorite. _ She had called this her–– her favorite dessert. Back when she still had taste buds, back before the… before everything. So, so long ago. Something  _ Link _ of all people somehow retained even a century later. Something he believed, held onto so tightly that he took the effort to bring a piece of one here to her now. So much effort for something she couldn’t even recall the taste of, much less whether she still  _ liked _ it––! 

(She could feel it. The almost cloud-like texture of fluffy, delicate frosting. Candied berries, soft, sweet flesh, and rich, gooey filling.)

Link still stared at her, not blinking, not breathing, and Zelda–– 

“Why?” She breathed out, voice breaking. He blurred in her vision and she blinked rapidly, trying to shove down the tears. The shuddering lump in her throat and the tremble of her lips likely gave her away anyway but... “Why go through so much… so much… Just for…” 

_...go on, taste it!  _

_...used for a variety of things! _

_...all that we can hope is that the species will be strong enough to prosper on its own. _

_...a favorite of the Princess of Hyrule.  _

The tears fell down her face. Zelda hiccuped weakly. Her body was still so exhausted it could barely even manage the tiny shudders wracking her, but what else was she supposed to do? After a century of barely existing; barely thinking, barely feeling, barely able to do more than hold on… 

Her head spun. Her stomach churned. Zelda clasped both shaking hands to her mouth, trying to keep from retching as her body violently revolted. Link just about flung the cake in his panic. “Zell-duh!” He shrieked, flailing. Zelda curled in on herself, swallowing painfully. She couldn’t stop crying. Link’s hands frantically pat all over her shoulders and back, unsure where to go. “Zelda?!” 

_ Hylia, you set all this motion, you took, and took, and took–– you let us be born into this path that destroyed so much of us–– _ Link make a croaky cry as Zelda reached out and latched onto him.  _ ––I owe you my power and my pain both. I am not strong enough to–– to forgive you. But for this gift, I, Princess of these wilds, I–– _

“Link,” Zelda choked out. Link went stiff and still in her arms. She knew he likely didn’t enjoy being touched, didn’t understand what was happening, but her knight did nothing in the way of stopping her from pulling him closer to her. “I’m sorry I yelled. I’m really, really happy that you’re still here. That you––” She sniffled wetly and planted her face into his shoulder, uncaring of how his hair stuck to her tear-stained cheeks. “That you’re still by my side. No matter how you are now. No matter if you… even if you  _ never _ manage to…” 

_ Hylia, you have taken so much from me. Whether it be fate or not–– even my power is fading, even if the sword shatters in Link’s hands–– he is still my friend. I still have a friend here. I refuse to let even you make me give up on him now.  _

Something in her heart pulsed, feverish and wild. Zelda shut her eyes against the blinding light branded into her hand. 

Somewhere in the haze of emotions, beyond the tears in her eyes, beyond the still damp cloth of her dress pressing uncomfortably between them, beyond Link’s careful hands settling back around her… she swore she felt something like fingers comb through her hair, like as a warm breeze. 

_ (You’ve done well, child.) _

Link held her tighter, rough hands endearingly delicate where they awkwardly tried to comfort her. 

_ (You’ve earned your rest tenfold.) _

Zelda buried her face deeper into the crook of Link’s neck as the light and warmth of her power fully flickered out, uncaring to watch it go. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Master_torch_master (and several others!!) for contributing the idea of Link being excited to be able to open doors lol
> 
> as an extra note, Purah didn't show up bc she wanted to give Zelda and Link some time to cool down ^^" she and robbie know theyre fine, Impa sent a message ahead

**Author's Note:**

> I've been meaning to write this one for a week or two now-- therell probably be a small follow up to this oneshot since theres more i want to expand on in how link and zelda's relationship changes in this au. 
> 
> as always, find me at [Leviathiane](https://leviathiane.tumblr.com) on tumblr!


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